


Anger/ Carnage

by rainyday321



Series: Stages of Grief Collection [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post TWOTL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainyday321/pseuds/rainyday321
Summary: Stages of Grief Collection All post TWOTLwritten in no particular order. Each a stand alone one shot fic.DenialAngerBargainingDepressionAcceptance





	

**Author's Note:**

> Stages of Grief Collection All post TWOTL  
> written in no particular order. Each a stand alone one shot fic.  
> Denial  
> Anger - Bedelia- Leg Dinner  
> Bargaining  
> Depression  
> Acceptance
> 
> Thank you to my awesome beta @no2camels. Thank you to my family. Thank you lil' Andy, thank you to my squad/support group. I hope to be like you all one day.

 

> Anger/ Carnage

She sits at the head of a long dining table, set with three places, the room illuminated by candlelight. Bedelia, honored guest at a feast composed mainly of herself. Feels the humiliation that she cannot walk away from this, at least not whole.

She clings on to an oyster fork with all of the strength she can muster, using it as an anchor to ground her. She knows that this is a situation where she would be tempted to let her mind drift or dissociate completely at what has been done to her. She refuses to let them go unscathed.

Will Graham walks into the room, dressed in formal attire. He’s wearing a black suit and a white button down shirt. The thought that he’s dressed for a funeral makes her laugh. He takes his place at the center seat.

“Do you know why you are here, William?”

“Hannibal hates to dine alone.”

“That’s only a part of it Will. The reason you are here is because he’s making an example of me. For your benefit.”

Hannibal strolls into the room looking at Bedelia intently.

“Bedelia, you brought it on yourself.  Your book was practically prophetic. You are being swallowed by the beast.”

“Dr. Du Maurier, you play you pay."

“Hannibal, I realize you are famished but would you please take a seat seeing you standing around makes me anxious.”

He takes a seat at the head of the table opposite her, more out of curiosity than courtesy.

“Will, I found that in my time practicing psychiatry and my experience as a woman, that there are few things as fragile as the male ego. He’s not here to kill me. He’s here because he’s offended. He’s offended that I said he kidnapped me rather than admitting I left with him of my own free will.

She takes the glass with her left hand, a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed by Hannibal, and takes a small sip of wine.

“Will, you are here to see what happens to those who leave him. Furthermore, you are fueled by your own jealousy and resentment.”

“I’m jealous of you, Dr. Du Maurier?”

“Yes, he came half-way across the world because he craved my nourishment or my vitriol. I personally would rather he had not.”

“I’m sure, Dr. Du Maurier.”

“You are here visiting an old flame.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“Well, William I am very high at the moment. Where was I? Ahh, yes. You are here visiting an old flame of his. What you do not know is that he doesn’t intend to kill me. Not yet. He wants to savor me. This could take years.”

Hannibal smiles and takes a sip of his wine. She is correct; he does intend on taking his time devouring her. The act of having her on constant alert gratifies him. Marking her emotionally in this way makes the meal more exciting. He wants to leave her behind, so she can tell the world that Will Graham lives.

“Tell me Will, do you still see Garret Jacob Hobbs?”

Will looks at Hannibal sternly.

“Pillow talk Will, I’m sure you find he gets quite chatty.”

“It seems he does.”

“When embracing Hannibal, do you consider Molly? Do you see her having to face further indignity? Not only being victimized by Hannibal, but now also being abandoned by you for her victimizer.”

Hannibal is quietly enjoying the show. Will subtly clenches his jaw.

“What did you imagine would happen, Will?”

“Since when do you care about anyone but yourself, Dr. Du Maurier?”

“Call it solidarity, feminism, or just being sick and tired of the havoc both of you wreak on the lives of those around you.

“You lured Molly in.

“What did you do? Go into her shop multiple times, talk to Walter? Appeal to her as a sensitive, caring, sweet man?

“Did you honestly believe Hannibal would allow you that ending, a happy ending with someone other than himself? A family outside of himself?”

She reaches for another sip of wine.

“For someone with so much insight you are blind.”

 “Bedelia, you ran off with him and expected to leave the experience unscathed, how quaint.”

“He convinced you that you are murderer like him. Those are just your mirror neurons. Though you are capable of righteous violence, you are not the same as him. Except in your level of pettiness. As I said, the male ego.

“Will, he instigated the murder of your unborn child. Tell me how did it feel to know that your unborn child was inside of a pig? I can assure you that the association of a pig and your child is not dissimilar to how he felt about them. That lovely gift was only made possible because of the influence he exerted on Mason. The casualties in your war are far too great.

_Beverly - dead_

_Abigail - dead_

_Margot - sterilized_

_Alana – a promise in waiting_

_Molly – he hasn’t given her an ending, yet._

 

“Hannibal, let me just add you’re a piece of shit for what you did to Bella Crawford. Will, you hurt each other to show love. And destroy everything in your wake, women used as pawns in your sadistic seduction. His influence on you was so malignant, so destructive you found it impossible to resist. How many years did it take you to realize Hannibal loved you? How many lives were destroyed in the process to your self-realization, or rather, your becoming?”

“Bedelia, this chit chat is getting repetitive, the meal is getting cold.”

“Ahh yes, you’ve always been so particular about how I taste.”

“Let’s eat shall we?”

“I will not eat. I am not Abel Gideon, you will not force me to eat my leg or any other part of myself.”

“It’s not your leg anymore, Bedelia.”

She laughs, “I beg to differ if it had my DNA it is mine regardless of attachment to my body. You cannot force me to do anything, Hannibal.”

“Bedelia, I’m just trying to share the experience of savoring you.”

“Hannibal, you are so distasteful.”

Hannibal leans in, “I had no complaints from you. I think the adrenaline is giving you false confidence.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps it is the fact that in your love of aesthetics you placed a table before me where I can pick and choose weapons. You took my limb but no one is leaving this table unscathed, I promise you that.”

She knows that he intends to leave her alive, but she has no wish to be victimized by him over and over again.

“Are you challenging me?”

“I’m daring you to come close Hannibal.”

“What will you do with the oyster fork you have in your hand, Bedelia?

“If you’re so curious come and see. As I said before, you have no intention of killing me today. There is also another option.”

Hannibal smiles at her as she takes the wine glass and drinks the remaining contents one gulp.

He can smell the blood. She knows he smells it and in response she smiles at him. She takes great pride in the fact that she was not one of their casualties, this is going to end on her terms. 

“Bedelia…”

He knows what she’s done but he still looks to make sure, the floor is covered in blood.

"Will, Bedelia took the oyster fork and stabbed herself in the femoral artery."

Will raises his glass to Bedelia and takes a sip of wine. 

Hannibal and Will look on as Bedelia bleeds out, they are expressionless. They make no moves to help or put her out of her misery. They continue their meal and let time run its course.

**Author's Note:**

> First off, be nice I'm a sensitive soul.  
> Secondly, if you happen to like it let me know. Praise is the jelly in my PB&J.  
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
